The Lust
by edenal
Summary: Post-Brisingr. Murtagh's frustrations and arrogance leads to the death of the closest friend he's ever had. He sets out on a quest for revenge, no matter the cost.
1. The Mission

Murtagh took another long stride, crushing the frozen soil beneath his boots. The weather was not helping to improve his mood, and the fog was souring his temper. He had been walking for hours, coming back from another errand Galbatorix had assigned, this time to murder another idiot lord who had gone too far and neglected nearly half a year's worth of taxes. The king had been going downhill ever since the loss of the Battle of Farthen Dur and was becoming unstable, and his occupation with his latest task was taking a toll on him. He had been using Murtagh as an assassin in between the time when he wasn't off fighting some battle involving Eragon or the Varden.

Scowling, he kicked another rock out of his way. Why hadn't the king allowed Thorn to come with him? Galbatorix had been separating them more and more, evidently afraid that they were going to concoct some plan to free themselves from his oaths. For the assassination, he had Thorn stay in Uru-baen, to magically stimulate his growth, and started to test intelligence growth. He had also become much more reclusive, and paranoid, suspecting Murtagh of treachery. Murtagh swore, thinking that the only thing they had come up with so far was the "changing-personalities-idea" Eragon had mentioned during their last battle. Looking at his sword, Zar'roc, he groaned again, knowing that the minute he got back to Uru-baen Galbatorix would order some other task upon him. Eager to reunite with Thorn, he started sprinting, as fast and light as an elf.

Hours later, finally reaching Uru-baen, Murtagh ordered the guards to let him into the main castle, showing his gedwey-ignasia as proof of his identity. The guards made no attempt to hide their fear and disapproval of Murtagh from him. Scowling, he entered the chamber and heard a snarl. Looking up, he saw Shruikan, Galbatorix's black dragon lying amongst the frames of the castle, red eyes gazing at him. Ignoring this, he proceeded forward. A dark aura surrounded the middle of the chamber, where Galbatorix sat. Thorn sat in the chamber, yawning and stretching. Murtagh smiled, despite the seriousness of the situation, happy that he was around Thorn again and they opened their minds, sharing an array of emotions and thoughts.

_Good to see you again, Thorn. I swear, Galbatorix's becoming more insane by the day, giving me these idiotic tasks._

_Obviously. He's been insane, ever since he was spawned. How was the assassination?_

_Pathetically easy. With all these Eldunari, doing anything is amazingly simple. Everything except murdering Galbatorix, that is._

_Peace, little one. With just more experience and planning on our part, we will easily free ourselves of Galbatorix's oaths. Then we will work together with the elves and Eragon, if they are willing, to topple the Empire. If they are not, we will topple them ourselves._

_Hmph, I wish. It isn't that easy.._

"Murtagh."

The name rang out loud and clear. Murtagh stiffened, and coldly replied "What?" Galbatorix looked up at Murtagh and narrowed his eyes, his dark purple eyes.

"I have another task for you. One task I think you will especially enjoy."

_Yeah, right._

"I have gotten tired of their blasted attempts to defeat my army, and I have the power to destroy them single-handedly. But I will not. I have other…_businesses_ to attend to, and you and Thorn are perfect for the job.

"But I stand no chance against them! If I attack them now, they'll destroy me in an instant!" Murtagh protested.

"I know that. That is why I am giving you a quarter of my Eldunari, just enough for you to attack them. I want you to capture Eragon and Saphira, and bring them back to Uru-baen, _unharmed_. I will also send some of the army to aid you in your siege."

With that, Galbatorix stood up from his dark throne and turned to the seat. Muttering inaudible words, the throne then started shaking. Sinking into the ground, it revealed a huge, locked vault. The lock was intricate, adorned with verses of the ancient language. Galbatorix placed his hand on the lock, and then spoke in a loud, commanding tone "_Vakna._" The lock then cracked, and opened in the middle, revealing a huge mountain of brightly shining gems, each gleaming like the sun and radiating wisdom and power.

"Take some of these Eldunari, and prepare to leave immediately. I will send troops when you signal your leave." Switching to the ancient language, he then ordered Murtagh and Thorn to do everything and not betray or leave the mission. Bitterly trapped, Murtagh then voiced the oath, as did Thorn. He then went forward and started to absorb the power of the Eldunari slowly, and when he took around a quarter, Galbatorix magically locked the vault. Excusing himself and Thorn, he then jumped onto Thorn's back and winged towards his private chambers, located in a high tower north of Uru-baen.

_At least you are lucky enough to be able to move around. I am forced to stay here and play guinea pig to Galbatorix's experiments all day._

_Don't we all hate Galbatorix? I would bet the majority of his soldiers hate him with their lives, and are only in his army because of blackmail, lies and threats._

_Yes…and his latest mission is to face Eragon and Saphira again? Ah, I hate fighting her. She's more experienced than me and I usually stand no chance against her…_

_Don't worry. As long as I'm there, I'll make sure Saphira doesn't kill you._

_Great help, _Thorn muttered. _She'll still rip off my wing or something._

_Stop complaining. With my new power, I'll destroy them in an instant._

Arriving at the tower, Thorn then stopped next to the window. Murtagh clambered off his back, and opened the window. Thorn flew down to the ground, where he started to stretch his wings and clean himself. Murtagh looked around his room, which was a decent size, and decided to change armor. The armor Galbatorix had given him was imbued with much magic and was resistant to magic and blades, to an extent. Then changing into a helmet and a shield, he unsheathed Zar'roc and started to polish it. Finally done preparing, he got back on Thorn and started to fly. Talking with Thorn on the way, they started to wing towards Surda. Murtagh grinned to himself, and looked at the distant horizon. Clenching his fist, he glimpsed a measure of his newfound power, and started to laugh, the sheer power intoxicating him and filling him with newfound confidence after his loss at Eragon's hands last time. Spitting at the ground, he took out his sword and shouted in the ancient language, infusing his words with power:

"I'm coming for you, Eragon! And this time, I'll show no mercy!"


	2. The Revelation

The wind whipped Murtagh's hair, blowing back his long dark locks of hair. He grimaced, still uneasy about the upcoming siege of the Varden. Even with his newfound power, he still wasn't sure that he could completely overcome them. Thorn and Murtagh had been flying for four days, and were nearly there. Murtagh looked behind him, and on the horizon he saw the large army of the Empire Galbatorix had sent to engage the Varden while Murtagh faced Eragon and Saphira again. Murtagh had been purposefully flying at a slow pace so the army could keep up. Galbatorix was firm about crushing the Varden, still seeing Surda itself as a minor threat which didn't require his attention.

According to Galbatorix, his plan was that "once the Varden loses their only Rider, they will be greatly weakened and slowly lose the trust and support of the dwarves and elves, and make it much easier to destroy the Varden. We can then eliminate the races one by one." Murtagh couldn't argue with that logic, much less against an insane genius who spent the greater half of his life plotting revenges and strategies. He was still sore about his previous losses to Eragon and the fact that the Varden had readily turned against him, with no regret or hesitation. Murtagh was deeply resentful. He always knew they never trusted him, even though for once in his life he actually felt _safe_ and _liked _the Varden.

_Thorn…what have we become? Ever since you hatched for me, your life has been nothing but anguish and killing…just like mine. We've been nothing but slaves to Galbatorix, we've played in his hands all along and we have no lives of our own…and the only "friends", if allies I've ever had have completely abandoned me and now seek our demises…_

…_Murtagh. These thoughts are useless. The more you think these kinds of thoughts the more you will lose your grip on reality and lose yourself. Stay calm, and stay with me. We __**will**__ find a way out, even if it takes us our whole lives._

Thorn then suddenly flew higher into the clouds to prevent them from being seen and to avoid detection until they were directly above the Varden. Murtagh nearly fell off from the sudden movement, but regained him position and secured himself. Acknowledging the wisdom of Thorn's words, Murtagh gave a small smile and replied:

_Yes…yes. You are right, I lost myself there. I'm sorry, it's just every minute I spend in Uru-baen I think of the weeks, months, years, __**centuries **__I could spend in there…no matter. I need to concentrate instead on the upcoming siege…_

Murtagh and Thorn then flew quietly and swiftly for another hour, until they were within the Varden's boundaries. Thorn hesitated, and then questioned Murtagh.

_Murtagh, I've been thinking…should you have __my__ Eldunari for the battle? I have no idea if we will actually survive, I know Galbatorix wants all us dragons and Riders under his command, but it seems now that he has another plan for us. He seems to take no heed whether we will survive or not, and I think he is careless because he might have finally found the last Rider…for the final egg. And it's male. A perfect match for Saphira. I haven't seen the egg around lately either, and I think there's reasons Galbatorix is experimenting on me. He could be..._using_ me as a test subject for the new dragon, to find better ways to empower the new dragon, and to make it so that it succeeds us entirely._

"And when the betrayal clears..." Murtagh murmured. He didn't have many reasons to suspect Galbatorix of treachery, especially since he had been obsessed with the goal of uniting all the Riders under his control, but his loathing of the dark king and his knowledge of the king's traitorous past made him wary. He decided that when he returned to Uru-baen, he would investigate Galbatorix and the egg, and any likely candidates for the hatching.

His current priority was to capture Eragon and Saphira, and wreak as much havoc in the Varden as possible. Looking down, through a patch of clouds-free sky, he saw they were moments away from the Varden's main base camp. He then looked back, sensing the army still following, and then clasped his gauntlets and tightened his boots. Thorn dipped down a bit, and flew below the clouds. They were directly above camp.

"Let's go, Thorn. I grow weary, and the Varden are preparing to move again. The army is right behind us, and we are coming. We are ready. We will win."


	3. The Siege

"We will win."

The Varden's war drums sounded. The ram horns rang out. Instantly, soldiers came swarming out and preparing. In a flurry of movement and sound, Thorn dived down towards the Varden's main base camp, and opened his huge maw. Breathing a huge torrent of dancing flames, he set fire to half the camp in one swoop. In the following chaos, Murtagh saw the king of Surda, Orrin, riding on his horse onto the field. Following him were Nasuada, leader of the Varden, the graceful elf Arya, and the duo of Eragon and Saphira. Instead of taking off and engaging him and Thorn in aerial combat, however, Murtagh saw Eragon and Saphira were urgently talking to Nasuada and Orrin. Muttering a quick spell, his hearing was suddenly enhanced. Blocking out the unnecessary noise and hearing only snatches of the conversation before it ended, he heard the words "…will help Eragon fend off Murtagh. They are here."

_Who are here? Reinforcements? The Urgals? Dwarves? Elves?_

_Most likely the elves. The Varden has already sent a message to them asking for their help._

_Damn it! They are here? This will make the siege much harder…_

Looking behind him, Murtagh saw the army of the Empire finally arrive. As their drums sounded, the two armies finally collided with a deafening roar. Even though the army of the Empire was small compared to the Varden, Murtagh knew they would stand a much better chance with all the powerful spells and wards Galbatorix had placed on them. Observing the battle, it looked as though the Varden, although in greater numbers, were slowly being pushed back by the superior quality of soldiers, thanks to Galbatorix's wards. The soldiers of the Empire were avoiding any losses, while the Varden's army was slowly dying.

Eragon finally stopped talking. As Eragon jumped onto Saphira's back, Orrin, Nasuada then joined the siege, while Arya slipped back into the tents. Saphira then flapped up to join Thorn at the same height, and Murtagh saw that Eragon had become stronger since their last encounter, and gained his own blue Rider's sword. Ignoring the last fact, Murtagh was still confident he would prevail, accounting to his monstrous store of energy thanks to the Eldunari Galbatorix had given him.

"Eragon. We have killed your masters, Oromis and Glaedr. You have been hiding them from us all along…you will pay for your deception, _brother._" Murtagh spat the last words out as if they were poisonous as a cobra's venom.

Eragon hesitated, as if he were about to say something, but seemed to think over it and confidently replied: "Murtagh! This time we will not lose. Saphira and I have become much stronger since our last encounter. And now we know the secret of your power. You will easily be defeated this time, Murtagh. Do not underestimate us, for we have more power at our disposal than you can imagine. Please turn back if you can." Saphira looked at Murtagh with dark blue eyes, and curled her upper lip, as if she were preparing to attack.

_Bah! I wish I could turn back...curse Galbatorix and his bloody oaths. I assume he is talking about the elves…why has he become so much more confident? There must be a reason…_

_It must be of the plan you heard about. I sense we are in great danger…_

_Ha! With my power, we have nothing to fear! We can overcome anything Eragon sets in front of us!_

…_.._

Murtagh slowly drew Zar'roc from it's sheath and raised it. Across the open space, Eragon did the same, the candescent blue blade sparkling like Saphira's scales. "Tell me, Eragon, how did you acquire your new blade? It is like no other blade I have ever seen. It matches Zar'roc's caliber, and it looks as if it is Zar'roc's equal."

Eragon raised an eyebrow. "My new blade? I acquired it through the elves. I had a special…._friend_ make it for me, in return for slaying the king. With this, I can face you as an equal."

"An equal? Eragon, you severely underestimate us" Murtagh growled. "We will drag you back to Galbatorix, and you will serve under him for the rest for your life, like us. Although….while in Uru-baen, we could work together to figure out a way to free ourselves. It would pass time by quickly…"

Eragon stiffened, and then raised his gleaming blue blade. "I'd rather tear out your hearts!"

_He knows? He must have gotten it through the elves…damn. We have lost a major advantage, any of the Varden could be privy to that information…_

Thorn quickly replied: _Not quite, Murtagh. The secret of Eldunari is something we dragons keep secret. I was told of it by Galbatorix, and was only recently aware of my own.._

"You may know that, Eragon, but I assure you. We will still win!" Shouting the words out, Murtagh and Thorn rushed at Eragon and Saphira, raising Zar'roc. Blades clashing and slashing, Murtagh sensed Eragon's reflexes had become much faster, almost as if he had Eldunari of his own to be on par with Murtagh. He managed to block every slash and stab sent by Murtagh, and he easily avoided powerful blows Murtagh would have considered difficult to evade. _Could he possibly have his own Eldunari…? No matter. He will not be able to avoid my magic.._

Eragon grinned as Murtagh was blocked in nearly every blow. Stunned by Eragon's hardiness and confidence, Murtagh pulled Thorn back from Saphira. "I told you Murtagh, you will not defeat us this time." As Thorn slowly lowered from air and onto a plateau, Saphira did the same. Murtagh looked in the distance at the two major armies fighting, and they were still at a stalemate, much like Eragon and himself. _This'll be a fun battle…I haven't had this much fun since I fought Eragon back at Gilead…_

Jumping off of Thorn, he told Thorn to attempt and hold off Saphira while Murtagh captured Eragon. He disliked aerial fighting, as it got in the way of his sword fighting and it was much harder to aim magic properly. Eragon got off Saphira as well, and both of the dragons lifted off and prepared to engage in aerial battle. Murtagh quickly casted multiple powerful wards on Thorn to compensate for Saphira's experience, delighted by the fact that the spells took only a tiny bit of power while normally they would drain him of much power.

As the two dragons slammed into each other and clawed each other, the sword battle was initiated when Eragon let out a battle cry. Eragon charged at Murtagh while raising his sword. Murtagh reflexively raised his own sword and blocked the blue blade, sending sparks. Eragon grinned, and then raised one hand and chanted "Malthinae." The spell was to bind Murtagh in place, and render him near helpless. Murtagh smirked in return, and was binded instantly. Mouthing the counter spell, he overpowered Eragon for a minute with his full power, who obviously was not expecting that magnitude of power, and Murtagh raised his own hand in return and barked "Jierda!" to break Eragon's ribs and render him comatose. Eragon's eyes widened, and he managed to form the counter before the spell took effect. Murtagh let Eragon win the short mental battle, as to prolong the fight and raised Zar'roc again. Slashing at Eragon, he was stunned again when Eragon quickly recovered and knocked aside Zar'roc. He then proceeded to slash Murtagh, who did not expect the turn of events, and shouted "Brisingr!"

The blue sword lit on fire and cut through Murtagh's armor and skin. Eyes widening in pain, his tunic was covered in red blood spurting out. He stared in shock at Eragon while ice-cold numbness quickly spread through his body and his vision flashed red.


	4. The Wrath

Pain. Warm, burning, sickening pain. That was all Murtagh felt before he stumbled back and nearly fell off the edge of the flat plateau. Looking up through his reddening vision, he saw Eragon slowly walking towards him, his blue blade gleaming dangerously. "You don't mean to kill me, eh, _brother_?" He bent over a bit and laughed, sounding like he was choking, and then looked up at Thorn. The crimson dragon was at a small disadvantage to Saphira, evident by the fact that he was repeatedly out flown and much slower than Saphira. Murtagh was content with how the battle was going so far, though, since Thorn had sustained no major injuries and had managed to cut Saphira after continually suffering the other end of the injuries.

_You can handle her, Thorn? Looks like this time you two are almost equal._

_It's harder than it looks, Murtagh. She still is cunning, and she knows more than I do about aerial combat, thanks to Glaedr and Oromis. _Suddenly changing tone, he assumed a more sympathetic one. _Would you like some of my energy? That wound of yours looks nasty…_

_No worries, Thorn. This wound is nothing compared to what Eragon will suffer shortly…_

Murtagh stood back up, wound still bleeding freely, and muttered a short healing spell. His slash wound mended instantly, he then raised Zar'roc. Experimentally muttering "Brisingr", he was surprised when Zar'roc didn't light on fire the same way Eragon's sword did. Able to think of only one explanation for the Eragon's new flaming sword, he looked at Eragon again. He was only ten feet away now. His sharp elven features were gazing at Murtagh steadily, and Murtagh gave a crooked smile. "Your sword…your sword. Is its name Brisingr?"

Eragon looked surprised when Murtagh revealed his observation. "It is. How did you know?" he suspiciously wondered.

"It's not too hard. Just the fact that my sword won't repeat the same feat yours did. Your blade's true name is probably Brisingr, and that's why yours lights and mines doesn't." Murtagh simply stated.

_Which also means that if I figure out the true name of Zar'roc, I'll be able to wield a totally unique ability, reserved only for me. With that, I could be so much stronger..another power for us to wield._

"….I see. It seems that you've learned a few new things from Galbatorix. But this sword is mine. And while it is, I have the power which no one else has."

There was a pause for a moment, in which the two dragons roared overhead and the distant armies clashed, and the stillness was broken when Eragon shifted around and quietly commanded, "Brisingr." As it did before, the sword lit on fire and thus augmented the blade's already impressive power. Envious of the unique power wielded by Eragon and curious of his own blade's name, Murtagh fingered the handle of Zar'roc before raising it over his head and charging at Eragon. He sent a quick slash at Eragon which was easily blocked, and was then pushed back by Brisingr. Growing annoyed by the long battle, Murtagh commanded "Brisingr," and sent a crimson fireball towards Eragon. Much to his surprise, Eragon raised his sword Brisingr in response and absorbed the fireball, adding to his own flaming sword.

"It seems the power of the true name give the wielder much power over the object in question..."

Eragon then unexpectedly charged at Murtagh, and instead of slashing at him, twisted around and rammed the handle of the sword into his stomach. Completely disarmed and surprised, Eragon then proceeded to slash Murtagh again, making another deep cut, amplified with the fire of the blade itself. Falling back, Eragon then raised his hand and shouted "Brisingr Metralleta!" Instantly, a volley of blue fireballs flashed out and flew towards Murtagh.

"I have had enough." Murtagh rumbled. Suddenly drawing upon his reserves of power, he stood back up and healed his wounds instantly. Looking up at the two dragons clawing at each other, Murtagh roared "Letta!" and bound Saphira in midair. Then, all within a span of seconds, he turned towards Eragon and the barrage of fireballs, roaring "Brisingr skolir!" Instantly, the fireballs were nullified by an invisible shield, while Murtagh raised his right and muttered "Jierda kalfya," instantly breaking Eragon's calves. Eragon cried out in pain, being unable to stop the spell in time, and Saphira roared, being unable to free herself. Thorn cautiously glided down, and then proceeded to sniff at Saphira before starting to clean his wounds.

_The Eldunari gave you that much power, eh?_

_Of course…some of those wounds look particularly deep. Would you like me to heal them?_

_Do you have enough power? Do not waste too much on me; you'll still need it._

_Ah, don't worry, I have enough._

Quickly walking over to Thorn and muttering a few words, the deep wounds were sealed immediately, and through their mental connection, Murtagh could feel Thorn's relief. He then sighed, standing unsteadily upright. The magic toll was still great, despite Murtagh's enormous power, and his grip on Zar'roc loosened while his muscles racked in a tremor.

Eragon collapsed, his legs being unable to hold him up, and raised a hand weakly toward Saphira. "Brakka du vanyali sem huildar Saphira," weaking the magic around her. Narrowing his eyes, Murtagh muttered "Slytha." Eragon fell unconscious immediately. Saphira then started to move around, breaking free of the spell entirely. Angered, she ignored Thorn and dived towards Murtagh, breathing out a huge burst of fire. Slowly raising a hand, Murtagh mouthed the words to completely restrain her and render her helpless, but then realized that an enormous cluster of soldiers was slowly closing on him. Eyes widening in shock, he quickly realized one of the presences was Saphira herself, augmented by dragon magic that was far stronger than Murtagh's magic. Scowling, he spat out a spell that would forcibly repel her and was infuriated that it was weakened by Saphira's dragon magic. Swearing, Murtagh jumped out of the way of the enraged dragon and quickly started to retreat. _Thorn, let's go! _Despair started to claw into Murtagh, as his power was starting to decrease, since most of it had been dedicated to protecting Thorn with wards and arrogant overuse. Murtagh was weakening, quickly.

_Thorn, try to hold off Saphira. I will kill the soldiers and capture Saphira. Hurry, the soldiers could easily retrieve Eragon...I need to capture Saphira immediately._

_Murtagh, end this quickly. I cannot hold her off for long. She'll be more than a match for me, and I don't know if Eragon's helper elves will arrive soon._

_More than enough reason for us to not dawdle._

Stopping, Murtagh looked back. Thorn was now engaged in a fierce claw-to-claw battle with Saphira, and Thorn had the temporary advantage, being bulkier. As the soldiers finally came into view, Murtagh stood his ground as the soldiers surrounded him and brandished their weapons at him. One of the soldiers walked closer to Murtagh, still wary of him, but then spat at Murtagh. Assuming he was the group leader, Murtagh then coolly said "Get out of my way, or you will all die. I will give you three seconds to comply."

Laughing, the soldiers of the Varden then started to insult Murtagh. "I heard you were the king's dark Rider, yet look at you! You sorry excuse for a Dragon Rider; you were supposed to be majestic, supposed to be many times stronger than Eragon Shadeslayer, yet you cannot even capture him! Are you not just a dirt-covered worm claiming the right to ride dragons?"

Counting to three, Murtagh then sheathed his blade. Raising one hand, he muttered inaudible words in the ancient language, but words of horrific powers. Instantly, the soldier who insulted Murtagh fell to the ground, foaming at the mouth. Crying out in alarm, the other soldiers then charged at Murtagh. Almost immediately, their heads exploded in a burst of blood as their bodies were burned by red fire. Turning away from the bloody spectacle, Murtagh walked towards Saphira who was still clawing Thorn, and drawed on all of his remaining power. Commanding "Letta," Saphira's limbs were frozen instantly, while she furiously projected her thoughts out.

_Let me go, oath-breaker! You will not bring me or Eragon back to Uru-baen!_

Slumping in exhaustion, Murtagh ignored her. Saphira roared even louder, but Thorn looked relieved and started to clean his wounds. Murtagh quickly healed Thorn's wounds, and prepared to set off back to Uru-baen with a captured Saphira. Pointing at Saphira and drawing on his reserves of energy left, he raised his hand and Saphira along with it. Satisfied, he then turned around to find Eragon and take him back as well, until he realized Eragon was nowhere to be found. Opening his mind quickly, reckless of the possible weakness, he probed around and didn't sense anything until he felt a huge presence attack his mind. Shocked, he tried to raise barriers around his mind to protect himself, but it was too late. Eragon had entered Murtagh's mind and gained control over him. Thorn roared, but Eragon used Murtagh's body to freeze Thorn as well, while simultaneously freeing Saphira. Eragon then appeared before Murtagh, a look of deep regret on his face, before turning to Thorn. Raising his sword and praying "Brisingr," Eragon raised his fiery inferno of a blade and took one last look at Murtagh's horrified face. Eyes brimming with tears, Eragon took one step and plunged the blade through all enchantments, and directly into Thorn's heart.


	5. The Greed

Time stood still for Murtagh, and his mouth was open in a silent cry of horror as Eragon's blade pierced through his enchantments, reaching Thorn's heart. From Thorn's throat: roaring, bellowing, shrieking-all at once. As Murtagh was frozen in the same position, he could do nothing but feel the shattering, blinding, excruciating _pain _of his beloved partner's agony, while Murtagh himself fought desperately to break his mental chains.

_No, no! THORN! NO! What—my partner—my friend—my __**mind! **__You can't die! You—CAN'T!—_

All Murtagh felt in response was blinding, mind-numbing pain, and he could decipher no more. He could only stand still and endure, endure. The agony coursing through his body and Thorn's was indescribable-and then Thorn locked eyes with Murtagh one last time. For a span of a second, brown eyes locked with ruby eyes, desperate for one last look at each other.

_Murtagh...Murtagh…I will give you my heart for one time, once more. I will stay with you…forever…_

_THORN, NO! I will NEVER accept your Eldunari! It's YOU! You can't die, I'll heal you; I'll save you! I won't let you go!_

…_Too late, take it…take it…now, before…before..._

Ignoring Murtagh's protests, Thorn wrenched his gut, and flexed his bleeding abdomen muscles. Throat heaving, he clenched his neck muscles and almost regurgitated the Eldunari, his soul, before Murtagh felt the faint link in his mind vanish. Everything was suddenly dulled, as if his senses were numbed. Thorn swayed slightly, neck wobbling, before he finally fell to the ground, eyes still open. Eragon withdrew his blue blade from the fallen ruby corpse, and the presence in Murtagh's mind instantly vanished. Knees buckling, Murtagh fell to the ground, his limbs not obeying his orders. Crawling to Thorn's side, he peered into Thorn's red eyes, his glassy red eyes, and saw what appeared to be Thorn's last emotion: acceptance.

_He accepted this cruel fate…this cruel agony. He accepted it all, lived through Galbatorix's slavery, and this is his reward? I…I will not accept this..He has had no more of a taste of life than the lowest beggar and yet he is a majestic dragon.._

Murtagh stood up, wiping the trickling tears off his rough face. Pupils dilating and focusing on Eragon, Murtagh focused his sheer hatred into Eragon, thinking of all the pain Eragon had caused him: Thorn's death, helping the Varden, the reason Murtagh was captured by Galbatorix in the first place, everything. Tightening his grip on Zar'roc, Murtagh charged at Eragon, slashing his blade at Eragon's face. Barely blocking the attack, Eragon fought off the blow with some effort, evidently surprised by the ferocity of Murtagh's rebuttal. Raising his right hand, Eragon focused his power onto binding and restraining Murtagh, but was unsuccessful. Amplifying his power with his anger and loss, the dark Rider finally broke through Eragon's formidable defenses and shattered his concentration. Thrusting Zar'roc through Eragon's chest, Murtagh then ripped the blade up into Eragon's ribs, shredding muscles and cracking bones. Saphira gave a hoarse roar, evidently tired by the battle and spells cast on her, but attempted to crush Murtagh. Easily dodging the botched attempt, the Rider then jumped back some meters and pointed at Eragon.

"You…you don't know how it feels to lose your dragon, you _murderer._ I will kill you, and your beast of a dragon, and I will show **you **how much death hurts. I have had to live through it all, through Thorn…and you brutally butchered him. I will show you true despair."

Raising his hand for the final attack to finish Eragon forever, Murtagh started to mouth the darkest words Galbatorix had taught him, a revelation so brutal it would inflict untold amounts of pain onto one before their death, a spell so dangerous and fatal and draining that it was allowed only during the direst times. Aware of his possible death through the copious amounts of energy needed, he recklessly continued to form the words, only fixed on annihilating Eragon. Nearing the final word, he eyed Saphira maliciously before returning to Eragon.

_**Could I possibly take her like Galbatorix took Shruikan?**_

"And here we…go."

A painfully heavy hammer hit the side of Murtagh's head, knocking him over some yards. Dropping Zar'roc and vision blurring, Murtagh scrabbled around on the ground groping for his sword while he heard heavy stomps toward his direction. Feeling warm blood dripping down the side of his head and developing a very painful headache, a rough foot was suddenly pushed onto his chest, and knocked the wind out of him. Hacking and coughing, Murtagh looked up shakily and saw it was the dwarf-king Orik. Slowly picking up Zar'roc and looking around, he saw Orik was with a small battalion of dwarf soldiers. It was obvious that they was Eragon's reinforcements, and with his current condition of being dangerously weak and injured, Murtagh doubted that he could take down all of them.

"Murtagh Morzansson, isn't it?" Orik asked coldly. "I have sworn upon Hrothgar's grave that I would kill you, and it seems that my promise will finally come true. It is time for you to die, Murtagh, and then the memory of Hrothgar will finally be at peace.

Barely containing a hidden laugh, the Kingslayer raised his head. "You filthy dwarf, you think, even at the moment I could be killed at your hands? _King _Orik of the Dwarves, even at your impressive caliber you are no more to me than a worm. You and your dwarves…they are nothing, _nothing _to me. As the dwarves dangerously stiffened, Murtagh looked back at Thorn's body by instinct; still thinking Thorn would back him up, and saw his corpse. Realizing that he was utterly alone in the world once again, destined to lose the final battle and forever hated by both the Empire and Varden, Murtagh loosened his grip on his sword and slumped onto the ground.

"I…am now forever alone…."

Murtagh made up his mind. Leaving his soldiers to die, he turned his back onto the dwarves and raised his hands in surrender. He started to walk away. Looking one last time at Thorn's body, Murtagh broke into a run, running away from the battle and running away from his loss. Hearing the surprised exclamations of the dwarves and the roar of Saphira, he sheathed Zar'roc in its worn out scabbard, and started to draw on everything he had to run away. As fast as an elf, Murtagh sprinted over the battalions of dead soldiers and broken weapons, the destroyed catapults and dugout holes, fleeing into isolation. Running northeast in the direction of the Hadarac Desert, Murtagh sprinted away to recuperate, plan his revenge and his newest mission: to replace his most beloved, Thorn.

_I need a dragon._


	6. The Choice

Sprinting as fast as he could over the huge expanse of plains, Murtagh had only one thought on his mind.

_Thorn…is gone. _

His breast heaving, his hands shaking, his mind racing, he attempted to push himself just a bit further. His pounding feet landed with a dull _crunch_ every time he stepped on it, and he heard a wave of feet behind him, obviously the dwarves. Now only two things were in his mind, Thorn and his own life. What remained of his rational nature was quickly disintegrating, along with the last traces of his current sanity. With each _crunch _he panted, and with each passing second the dwarves were catching up to him.

"No…no…dammit…dammit…."

He was quickly coming up against another blue wave of soldiers, who were obviously tipped-off on Murtagh's location. The soldiers of the Varden clustered in a formation, and held their ground against Murtagh.

"Blasted…blasted…fools…"

Hands aching and arms screaming in pain, Murtagh raised his left hand and spat out a broken fragment of the ancient language, which, bizarrely twisted and mangled in his mouth, had a completely different effect. While Murtagh aimed to shockwave the troops out of his path, the garbled spell produced an explosion in the ground in front of the soldiers. While effectively clearing a path for him, his energy was depleted to the point where his legs collapsed suddenly against his will, and, with a cry of pain, he fell to the uneven, blood-spattered ground. He scrabbled at the ground, regained his balance a couple of seconds, and unsteadily took a few steps. His legs defying his wishes, they gave out again, this time ripping some muscles, and Murtagh let out a shriek of pain.

The dwarves had finally caught up to Murtagh, and he heard Orik's loud voice rumble over him. "We have you now, Murtagh Morzansson. You cannot run anymore, and you are weak and weary. We have two options to do with you: I either kill you right here and right now to avenge the great king Hrothgar, or we can clap you in irons and keep you hostage in the Varden, while we figure out what to do with you. Your choice, and I advise you…to choose _carefully._"

Angered at his own weakness and the authority of the dwarves, Murtagh growled "You have killed my dragon, you have doomed me to this hell of a life, and you expect me to choose my death either way? Petty dwarf, I don't give a _damn _about your pathetic excuse for a king. Any other king would not be so easily fell by such a basic spell-"

"Cut off his tongue, and smash his brains out!" a dwarf in Orik's group roared. "We of the Ingeitum do not take such blasphemy spewed against our great king!" Many of the other dwarves in Orik's group murmured their agreement, suggesting bloodier deaths and offering to murder Murtagh themselves. They started to argue amongst themselves what to do with Murtagh, until Orik roared "Enough! Since he himself does not want to cooperate with us, we must contact Nasuada to see what we do with him. If Eragon finds a way to break his bonds, he'll be free, but under the eternal guilt of killing Hrothgar.."

Crawling back a few inches, Murtagh looked up at the dwarves and an image of Thorn suddenly appeared again in his mind. "I will…never work with Eragon ever again. I will kill him, and Saphira as well, and I will never join the Varden. If you release me from my bonds, I swear I will find you, and kill all of you."

Orik looked at Murtagh with disappointment, and sighed. The battle was starting to end around them, as Murtagh's soldiers were finally starting to lose without his support, and the Varden had regained their advantage. Catapults and bows lay across the strewn field, and after looking at the carnage of war, Murtagh turned away. Thorn's corpse still glittered in the distance and Murtagh had finally given up.

"Then it is decided. We bring you back to the Varden, where you will await Nasuada's orders and Eragon shall decide how you will live, or die." The dwarves then aggressively seized Murtagh and, with surprising strength, dragged him by the arms in the direction of the Varden's main forces.

"Let go of me, you cowards!" Murtagh spat, and then kicked one of the dwarves in the fork of the legs. Dropping him with an oath, the dwarf then whipped out his hammer, before Orik rested a hand on him and gave a grunt. Scowling, the dwarf gingerly attempted to grab his arm, but Murtagh took advantage of his opportunity to take out Zar'roc and slashed two other dwarves across their chests, streaming blood everywhere. The dwarves quickly backed away from Murtagh, before looking at Orik for orders.

"We'll have to take him by force. Use all force necessary, but just knock him out."

"Damn dwarves" Murtagh snarled, "I swear upon Thorn's memory I will eradicate all of you!" Orik's stare suddenly great much more cold, and he smashed his hammer in Murtagh's face, knocking out some of his teeth and breaking his face. Tears of pain starting to slither out of his eyes, Murtagh spat out globules of dark blood and then checked his magical reserves. He had no magic left, only a miniscule amount to possibly lift a small rock, and he attempted to stand. Legs dangerously wobbling, he tried to run, but another hard object crushed his Achille's Tendon, and he tumbled to the ground once again.

The dwarves, finally angered and annoyed, seized Murtagh by the throat and tightened their hold on him as they dragged him away once again. Eyes fluttering and vision dangerously fading, Murtagh blearily went in and out of a trance until he saw Thorn's corpse, and he felt a painful impact on the top of his temple. Everything went dark.


	7. The Encounter

**Gonna try to continue this just because I can. I have the general plot planned, and I'm not going to say anything about being gone for quite a long time. Hopefully I'll have the will to continue this, but for now let's see what this chapter can bring in. Sorry to anyone who liked reading this, but I'm back for now.**

He couldn't feel anything. This was certain. All he knew was that he knew nothing. He could not see anything. He could not hear anything. He was floating, floating, floating in his own dream-like state. It was as if he was asleep, except if you had been asleep for years and could only remember a large, blank gap. That was what Murtagh came to notice after what seemed like a millennia in his own dream state.

The first thing Murtagh saw when he opened his eyes was darkness. His head spun and he could taste a metallic tinge in his mouth. Mind fuzzy and thoughts clouded, he couldn't tell what he was looking at, and for a brief second seemed no different than his dream, except he could hear the _drip-drip_ of water and the distant clanking of armour. His arms seemed to be restrained by some kind of spiky shackle. The first thing that came to Murtagh's mind was _How long have I been asleep? _And that was quickly followed by _Thorn is gone._ He knew, from his readings in Uru`baen that Riders who lost their dragons generally went insane, and he could feel the burning claws of insanity touch his mind as he lingered on the missing gap that was previously filled by Thorn. It seemed unfair to him that, given a taste of what two minds were like when combined and communicating, one lonely mind by itself was able to function properly in the world. He did not care to follow the paths of the other Riders, and intended to get over Thorn's death as quickly as possible. He knew that, if he continued to dwell on the loss of his most loved, most trusted friend that he would surely lose his mind.

The next thing that came to his mind was that he needed all of his Eldunari on him. He looked down and saw that he was dressed in the same clothes that he had worn on the day that he had been captured. Evidently the dwarves wanted to keep him as intact as possible. Better for him, he decided, as he could feel the hearts move around as he twisted his body. Eragon and the others did not know where he hid his Eldunari. They did not know how the hearts were hidden, and therefore were unable to remove them. All to his advantage. Tired as he was, he drifted off back to sleep, thoughts uneasy and mind restless.

Coming to again, he noticed for the first time that his muscles were extremely sore and his left leg was bleeding. Murtagh's legs were also noticeably free. It seemed that he had been in a hanging in the same posture for a long period of time, which explained why his arms were burning quite painfully. Surprisingly, he didn't feel too bad after such a long time, a fact which he chalked up to the Varden and Eragon's relatively sympathetic treatment of him. He appeared to be in a jail cell that led down a long hallway, lit only by two torches. What Murtagh had not expected, however, was the absence of guards. _All the better for me. _Flashing over what words he knew that could break the bonds, he decided upon a pair of words that could snap metal as easily as twigs. At the moment his mouth opened, the door that was leading into his cell opened, and blinding light was let into his cell. Murtagh froze, squinting his eyes into the light. He could hear iron boots clank on the cold stone floor. He could tell that from the footsteps, it was most likely human, since it was too light for dwarves yet too heavy for elves at the same time. Eyes adjusting, he could make out the outline of bulky, strongly built man and a relatively thinner and young-looking man striding down to his cell.

"And here is our most infamous prisoner, Murtagh Morzansson. Since he was captured, he's been drugged and unconscious, because we couldn't figure out a satisfactory way to subdue him. He should still be out of commission for now, but we've been quite low on guards recently due to the recent battles so we've had to be a bit lenient on security around his prison." The bulkier man said loudly. "Nothing should happen, so you're going to be guarding this cell until your replacement. "

_This would be the perfect opportunity to escape…seeing as I should still have enough energy to manipulate these fools._

As the taller man prepared to take his leave and the other man established his position with a chair and a small sword, Murtagh decided what he would do.

The instant the door closed, Murtagh shifted a bit in his shackles and the younger man looked up, a look of fear on his face. Murtagh could see that the youth tightened his grip on his sword, and he groaned a bit. The youth's face was pale and he seemed to be quite afraid of Murtagh. _Enough theatrics, _Murtagh decided, _I need to get out of here quickly._

Reaching out with his mind, he could feel the man's consciousness. The man must have also felt a sort of touching presence, as he jerked on the spot and suddenly made a noise, like a growl. He approached Murtagh's cell cautiously, as if knowing that the foreign presence came from the cell.

_I'm surprised the man can feel my projection…_

Murtagh vaguely touched upon that thought for a moment, and then proceeded to crush the man's mind by focusing his thoughts and forming them into a large spear. He forced his way through the man's barriers, while feeling his confusion and pain and seeing the man drop his sword and scream.

_Damn fool! He alerted the other men…no matter. I'll have to fight my way out then._

Drawing upon his knowledge that Galbatorix had shared with him, Murtagh proceeded to drain the energy out of the man until he collapsed, basking in the momentarily intoxicating infusion of energy, while hearing the door to his cell room being unlocked. Casting two quick spells that allowed him to tear free of his chains relatively easily, he clambered to his feet unsteadily as the door opened. Blinded once again by the light, Murtagh took his opportunity to pick up the now-unconscious guard's sword and squinted up at the figure. His heart dropped upon seeing the figure, however, and he groaned.

"_You."_


End file.
